


My Home Is With You

by Renai_chan



Series: Kings of Their Universes [2]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DCU (Movies), Man of Steel (2013), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve, Tony, Bruce and Clark spend Mother's Day with Martha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Home Is With You

**Author's Note:**

> It explores the "meet the parents" trope a tiny bit, but it's mostly and exercise to explore their relationship further, as told from Clark's POV (I'm working on my characterizations for him and Bruce).
> 
> No pr0n though, sorry. I couldn't work it in.
> 
> Also, unbeta'd. I may edit it in the future for a smoother flow of words, but nothing too major.

“I vote we all go to Clark’s for the weekend since he’s the only one who still actually has a mother anyway,” Tony declared from beneath the mass of arms and legs and bodies, though there was not an ounce of discomfort in his tone. It helped, Clark supposed, that Steve was stroking the line of his back that was visible between Bruce’s arm and leg that were tossed over the engineer. But as soon as the last word left Tony’s mouth, Steve smacked his hip (and earned an annoyed “Hey! Fragile human here!”), and Clark stole a marginally worried glance at his teammate whose eyes were closed in an expression of peaceful satisfaction. Bruce had always been a little bit sensitive about discussions of parents, but even at Tony’s words, his expression didn’t change, so Clark hesitantly settled back into the conversation.

“Tony 'Mr. Sensitivity' Stark, ladies and gentlemen.” Clark could _hear_ the eye roll in Steve's words, but the soldier had buried his face into the back of Bruce’s neck as a covert gesture of comfort before anyone could see.

“Hey, my mother’s dead too, you know. That gives me a free pass to insensitive Mother’s Day jokes,” Tony shot back, but he pressed a kiss to Bruce’s temple anyway which was as much of an apology as one could expect out of him.

“I’m sure even if she weren’t you’d find a way to acquire that free pass anyway,” Bruce put in, making Tony light up with a grin.

“See? Brucey agrees with me,” he said and then planted another kiss onto the other billionaire’s shoulder.

“That wasn’t agreement. He was telling you that you’re always an asshole no matter what the situation,” came Steve’s muffled reply, so Tony reached over and pinched him in the side. There was a lot of movement after that. Steve yelped and then reached over Bruce’s back to haul Tony closer to him and pin his wrists up above his head. Bruce rolled away beneath the slighter man as he was pulled over, taking up Tony’s space and cuddling into Clark while trying not to be obvious about it. Tony struggled against Steve’s grip, viciously at first and then, when he remembered he was going up against a supersoldier, lewdly afterwards. He gave Steve a sultry smile and rocked his hips up against Steve’s who moaned and pushed back.

“Well, you’ve got me, big boy. What are you gonna do ‘bout it?” he asked, his tone coy and his eyes half-lidded like all those noir movie heroines. Steve growled at him and shut the rest of his words up with a hard kiss. At the scene, Bruce rolled his eyes (though Clark could sense his great interest in it) and looked up at him.

“I’m fine with it if you are,” he offered. Clark could sense his caution because this, their relationship with Steve and Tony, was a new thing—only a few months old—and wasn’t public knowledge as of yet—not that they were embarrassed of it, but more that they didn’t want the frenzied attention that was sure to accompany any admittance. Bringing this home, “meeting the parents” so to speak, telling someone beyond the four of them was the first step to making this concrete and real and tangible. He looked up to see both Steve and Tony watching him, waiting for his answer with a small but detectable smidge of anxiety.

But really, there wasn’t anything to be cautious or anxious about. He was incredibly proud of their relationship, unconventional though it may be, and when the time is right, he’d gladly shout it from the top of the Daily Planet.

“Of course I am,” he said with a sure smile. There was palpable relief in the two Avengers as they sank back into their kiss.

……………

“Mom?” Clark called out when they parked in the driveway and he had jumped out of the car. Buddy, having heard his call, yelped loudly and came charging at him from around the side of the house, barreling him over as soon as he set foot on the front lawn and making the man laugh in delight and ruffle his fur fondly. “Hey, Buddy,” he greeted the dog. “Been keeping out of trouble?”

“Clark?” he heard his mom call back from inside the house, so he set Buddy down, climbed the porch steps and snagged her from behind the screen door to wrap her in a tight hug, lifting her well off the ground. She laughed in delight, hugging him back before pressing a big kiss to his cheek. God, but he had missed her. He felt slightly guilty at not having been back for a visit in well over a month, but she gave no indication of disappointment at that. “Hello, dear,” she only said.

“Happy mother’s day, mom,” he answered as he set her back down on her feet. Her smile was blinding, so he kissed her back and turned her attention to his lovers. “You remember Bruce, of course,” he said, and he was sure she did. He’d introduced her to Bruce (and to their relationship) a while back, though Bruce hadn’t been over in quite some time. Her eyes glittered with remembrance, and she made small, quick ‘come here’ gestures at him. He smiled and accepted her hug, surprising Clark by giving her a peck on the cheek.

“You know I do,” she told Clark and then released the younger billionaire with a pat on the cheek. “Hello, Bruce honey. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Kent, and you?”

“Oh, hush. I told you to call me ‘Martha’…” she said and then paused before saying, “or ‘mom’ whichever you like, honey,” with a small wink. Bruce honest-to-god _blushed_ and dropped his eyes in embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t presume to be that forward, but thank you, Martha,” he said, and Clark couldn’t hide his grin. Then Martha looked over Bruce’s shoulder to see Steve and Tony standing a few ways away. They both had happy smiles on, but there was an awkwardness in them that was the result of meeting parents for the first time.

“Mom, I’d like to introduce you to Steve Rogers and Tony Stark,” Clark offered. She was momentarily startled at their presence, but recovered quickly enough.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark, Mr. Rogers,” she said. “Oh, please do come in.” She waved them over then walked inside the house, quite obviously flustered at their visit. Clark sent the three of them a shrug and a grin and held the door open for them. They heard Martha puttering about in the kitchen, cutlery and china tinkling as she moved about, so Clark excused himself and followed her into the kitchen to help out. “What would they like to drink, Clark? Oh! I didn’t ask…” She stopped momentarily in thought before deciding to bring _everything_ out it seemed: tea and coffee and soda and water. Clark laughed and grabbed both her hands.

“Mom... Mom! Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll bring out the drinks,” he suggested. She looked like she wanted to argue, but he kissed her temple and pushed her gently out the door.

“I’m terribly sorry; the house is a mess,” he heard her saying while she picked things up and dusted off her couches. “I swear, I will skin that boy alive for not telling me he was bringing guests over. Please, please, sit.” He chuckled and set cups of coffee onto a tray.

“He meant no harm, ma’am. Clark just wanted to surprise you,” Steve told her. “And besides, you have a _lovely_ home.”

“Such a sweet boy,” Martha answered, and Clark had to suck in a gasp of laughter at Tony’s muttered ‘suck up’ which Steve clearly must have heard, too, because Tony gave a stifled meep before saying:

“I can’t express how much of a pleasure it is to finally meet the famous Martha Kent.” Clark entered the living room just in time to see Tony sweep Martha’s hand up and press a gentlemanly kiss to the back of it. “Clark talks about you _all_ the time, but I have to be honest, none of his stories do you any justice,” he confided with a saucy wink, ever the charming socialite when he wanted to be. Martha blushed prettily even when she said with a fake stern tone:

“Oh, shush. Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Mr. Stark.”

“Ah, but it’s not flattery if it’s true. You, my dear, look like a young Diane Lane.” Her laughter made Clark smile as he set down the tray on the coffee table and perched himself on the arm of Bruce’s chair.

They made pleasant small talk for the better part of two hours with Tony dominating most of her attention, which was fine because he was a complete attention whore where none of the rest of them were. The only hitch in the whole conversation had been when Tony declared, “I think this is the part of the visit where you show us naked baby pictures and tell us embarrassing stories about Clark,” and Martha _actually did_ , but Bruce and Steve’s almost raucous laughter (there was nothing ‘almost’ about Tony’s) at the stories were a good enough reason for him to bear the mortification and what was sure to be a good deal of teasing in his future.

And then Martha looked at the clock and went frantic. “Good lord! It’s nearly lunch and I haven’t prepared a thing!” She stood suddenly, toppling the album off of her and Tony’s laps, and made for the kitchen before Bruce caught her arm.

“Don’t worry about lunch, ma’am. We brought food with us. Clark and I’ll bring it in,” he offered, standing smoothly and stepping around the armchair. She looked hesitant but allowed Bruce to sit her back down, and Tony reset the album to where it was. It didn’t take them ten minutes to gather all the take out (restaurant-quality take out, mind you, because neither Bruce nor Tony wanted to settle for anything less than the best they could afford) from the car and bring it into the kitchen, but Martha was there before they could begin setting it out.

“Why don’t you set the table and entertain your guests, Clark. I’ll deal with the food,” she suggested. _Strongly_ suggested because when Clark was about to protest, she shot him a withering glare. “ _No_. You’ve been nice enough to bring the food; allow me to set it out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered instead and ushered Bruce out.

Their conversation moved from the living room and into the dining room, but lost none of the energy at which Tony told stories of their missions and of the rest of their lives beyond that. Steve served to remind Tony that he was talking to Clark’s _mother_ so maybe he should tone down the bawdy jokes, but he also contributed his own stories (mostly those about Tony which the genius chose to omit). Bruce laughed along and put in his own snarky comebacks from time to time, especially when Tony tended to exaggerate his mistakes.

Clark said nothing all the while, though he was not unparticipative. He laughed at the stories, was properly embarrassed when his own mistakes were told, indignant when his mother teased him and flustered when Tony or Bruce or Steve did. But mostly, he was silent because he couldn’t even begin to express how indescribably happy he was because here, at this moment in time, he had all his favorite people with him, gathered around the table, talking and teasing like they had known each other their whole lives… like they were a real family.

He ducked his head and shoveled the last of his food in his mouth before glancing around the table to see that Tony still had most of his own on his plate while everyone else was finishing up, mostly because he had barely stopped talking to eat. Clark tapped him gently on the hand with the flat of his knife and gestured to his plate. It was a common enough action (because Tony was a child in that he needed to be reminded—frequently—to finish his food) that he didn’t pause in his telling of the story until the very last second when he had to put the food in his mouth, and even then, he spoke through his mouthful of food until Bruce tapped on his other hand to remind him that it wasn’t polite. Tony turned a pout to him and gave Martha a ‘one moment’ gesture while he chewed on his food. She covered her mouth with a hand to hold back a chuckle.

The rest of their conversation continued in the same way until Tony finally cleared his plate, and Steve stood to thank Martha for the lovely meal (even though they had brought it in the first place) and offered to help clear up and wash the dishes.

“Nonsense, dear. You should go have a look around the farm and the lake. Clark can give you a tour, won’t you, darling?” Martha said, already bussing the table. Steve attempted to follow through with his offer anyway until Martha waved him away. “Go on now. Off with you. Just be back by sunset, I’ll have something prepared for dinner by then,” she said and then suddenly looked up with a question on her face. “Will you be staying the night?”

“Uhh…” Steve looked to Clark who answered in his stead.

“We booked ourselves a couple of rooms in town,” he said. They hadn’t been sure if his mom would allow them to stay, given that he hadn’t given her any forewarning and all. Besides, it was a small house; there was only his room and his mom’s. Martha frowned.

“Well then make sure you cancel them before you head out. I’ll set you up in Clark’s old room,” she said kindly, which Clark didn’t quite know how to take, so he gave her a kiss and said:

“Yeah, okay. See you later, mom,” and then headed the group out after the rest had given similar sentiments. “So,” he started carefully when they had reached the front lawn. Buddy was at his feet in an instant and he knelt to scratch behind his ears.

“I’m pretty sure your mom just gave us her blessing to fuck in your room,” Tony said. Loudly. Clark was glad there weren’t any people close by to hear him, and Steve slapped him on the arm.

“I don’t think the motel owner downtown heard you,” the soldier said with an admonishing glare. Tony only leered at him.

“Do you want him to?” he said and then laughed when Steve shoved him playfully. Clark straightened beside Bruce when Steve introduced himself to Buddy and Tony hovered at his shoulder, pretending to be standoffish about the dog but looking like he wanted to pet him anyway.

“So,” Clark tried again. Bruce gave him a small smile and slipped his hand into the alien’s.

“I wouldn’t put it past her to have guessed, but I don’t think she’d disapprove anyway,” he answered. “Tony, despite being a complete asshat ninety percent of the time, can charm his way into anyone’s good graces, and Steve doesn’t even have to try.”

“I think she’d have something to say about there being four of us,” Clark pointed out.

“I’m sure she would, but probably not for the reasons you’re worrying about,” Bruce said and then nudged him with his shoulder. “Come on. We were promised a tour, and I admit I haven’t actually been to a proper American farm before.” Clark grinned and kissed his temple before tugging him along the path to the barn.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll show you around the barn first.”

It wasn’t too far away, but they did have to walk a bit, avoiding several piles of dung as they went. Tony made a small moue and sidled closer to Clark, but said nothing. The farm wasn’t large by any measure. They had a family of pigs, two cows, some chickens and a rooster. A small field of corn where the ears were just beginning to emerge stood just to the right of the barn, and out back, there was a nice, little lake with a dock, a boat and a family of geese.  All standard fare really, but it was comfortable, peaceful and novel for the three city boys.

Tony sat on his haunches a few paces away from the pig pen, watching the piglets trot around in the muck, and wrinkled his nose when the smell drifted toward him.

“So, do you do the whole ‘sooey’ hog call thing? Can we get a demonstration?” he asked with a teasing smile when he looked up at Clark. The taller man laughed and nudged him with his shoe.

“I am definitely not doing it for you. Not after the baby pics,” he said. “Which reminds me, I’m going to get Lois to track down _your_ baby pictures and see who gets the last laugh.” Tony stuck his tongue out at him.

“I had them all burned when I turned eighteen,” he answered which Clark knew wasn’t true, so he only laughed again.

“They’re adorable,” Steve said about the piglets, looking all for the world like he wanted one. Bruce stood on his tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“No,” he asserted. “We are not having piglets in the mansion.” Steve pouted.

“But they’ll just get turned into bacon if we leave them here.”

“I like bacon,” Tony offered and earned himself a glare.

“The house is big enough. You wouldn’t even see them,” Steve tried again. Bruce hissed and turned away from his wide, imploring eyes, shooting Clark a ‘help me’ look. Clark hid a grin. He would accuse Steve of manipulating Bruce to get his way, but he doubted Steve even knew what he was doing.

“ _No_ , Steve. No pigs in the house. Not now, not ever,” he reiterated, still turned away from the captain who pouted and crouched beside Tony to stroke a clean part of the closest piglet. Tony, meanwhile, having lost interest in the animals, stood and turned to Clark.

“Well, I’m done here. On with the tour,” he declared, every inch the brat he tended to be around the three of them. Steve only sighed and allowed Tony to tug him to his feet, looking forlornly once more at the piglets before trudging along the path behind his three boyfriends.

Clark toured them around the barn, pointing out the stalls and niches and telling them trivia and stories. He told them about how his father used to keep the spaceship he came in there (and he later moved the craft to the Fortress in Antarctica). He told them about the first time he had milked a cow and driven a tractor, about how he’d helped his father help a cow give birth, about catching his first fish which was later stolen by an eagle that swooped by (“My god. And I thought it was only _Steve_ whose patriotism attracted eagles like virgins do unicorns,” Tony said with a laugh.), about the school bus he saved half a mile up the river which fed their lake, and about his first kiss on their small dock.

The dock whose edge Tony was currently standing on while he shucked his jacket.

“Uh, Tone? What are you doing?” Clark asked, blinking while Tony’s necktie fell to the ground. Tony turned and gave him a small, sultry smile.

“I thought we could go for a little swim,” he said, undoing each button of his dress shirt with deliberate slowness. The shirt slipped off his shoulders and fell to the floor. “But seeing as you’ve failed to advise us to bring swimming clothes, I guess we’ll have to do without,” he added as if it were the most logical thing in the world: going _skinny dipping_ in the mid-afternoon. Clark stole a glance back in the direction of the house which was partially hidden by the barn and some trees. He knew his mother wouldn’t see them unless she actively tried to look, and there weren’t any people nearby, but it was still _bright daylight_ for crying out loud. When he turned back, he could see Tony kicking his shoes off and working on his pants. Bruce and Steve were looking around like Clark had, but neither of them seemed intent on stopping Tony, so Clark supposed he had to.

“Anyone could happen by and see,” he pointed out.

“But isn’t this what all you country folk do? Have hog-calling contests and go skinny dippin’?” His southern accent was appallingly ridiculous, and Clark figured he should be offended, but Tony spread his arms wide with a matching grin as his pants fell to his ankles. Eyes were automatically drawn lower. “Besides, it’s nothing anyone hasn’t seen before,” he added with another saucy wink, and then he stepped out of his briefs, turned to the water, and, after a second’s hesitation, dived in smoothly.

It was an innocuous act, but Clark’s breath stopped in his throat, only to be released when Tony’s head broke the surface of the water a few seconds later to reveal a pleased grin. They all had their triggers—for Bruce it was his parents, for Steve, the ice, and for Clark, he hated anything even _remotely_ resembling kryptonite—Tony’s trigger was bodies of water, big or small, so for him to have taken a dive into the lake was almost literally a leap of faith, an act of defiant courage, and a show of great trust that he knew the three of them would save him if need be. And Clark always and forever would.

So he too started shucking his clothes, conceding only to leave on his boxers, before diving in after Tony and swimming up to press a pride-filled kiss to his lips.

“Come ooooon, you two. How often do we get to go swimming in a _lake_?” Tony wheedled at his remaining lovers. Steve huffed laugh and stripped down to his boxers, folding his clothes up neatly unlike the first two had done, and then he, too, hopped into the lake, testing it out by swimming a few yards away before making his way back. Bruce frowned.

“No, Stark,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It may look clean, but you don’t know what pathogens and creatures are in the water.” Tony wriggled his way out of Clark’s embrace and hoisted himself up the dock, which wasn’t too high off the water, crossing his arms on the deck so that his lower half still remained submerged. Steve swam up to Clark who pulled him closer, Steve’s back to his front, and propped his chin on the soldier’s shoulder while watching the curve of Tony’s ass flicker into view when the water pulled away. He didn’t pretend not to grind up against Steve while they watched Tony try to get his way.

“You spent _weeks_ in a filthy, rat-infested third-world country prison. I don’t think you get to turn your nose up at a pretty lake,” the engineer pointed out. Bruce said nothing, but only because Clark knew he had nothing to say to that. And so did Tony whose smug grin could be heard in his tone when he whined, “Can I at least get a kiss?” Bruce sighed and uncrossed his arms.

“Fine,” he conceded and knelt closer to the super genius. Tony lifted himself up with his arms to kiss the younger man thoroughly, getting Bruce to let out an eager moan. And then Tony grasped the front of Bruce’s suit with one hand.

And _pulled_.

There was a loud splash and a shocked stillness in the air, and then Bruce broke the water’s surface with a loud roar.

“STARK!!” he screamed while Tony laughed hysterically and ducked behind Clark and Steve.

“ _Save me_! _Save meeee_!” he cried when Bruce swam furiously toward him. The ensuing scuffle was graceless and childish, and Tony kept coughing through laughs when he managed to snort up handfuls of water. Steve and Clark only laughed through the splashing until their sides hurt and then took one billionaire each and dragged them apart. Tony was wheezing laughter into Steve’s neck while Bruce glared at him from Clark’s hold; he didn’t bother struggling, though, knowing it would be futile. Steve smacked the back of Tony’s head to get his attention.

“That wasn’t very nice, Tony. Say you’re sorry,” he admonished.

“But I’m not. See? I got Bruce to go swimming,” the genius answered. Steve glared at him half-heartedly.

“ _Apologize_.” His tone was that of a mother’s scolding a child, and Tony turned to Bruce with a half-apologetic grin.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said insincerely. “Can I give you a blowjob to make it up to you?” Bruce crossed his arms over his chest.

“Offenders don’t get to set the penalty,” he answered snidely. “I’ll think of an appropriate punishment and let you know.” To that, Tony’s confidence faltered, and he turned to Steve.

“You won’t let him kill me, would you?” he asked in all terrified seriousness. Steve kissed his temple.

“I’ll make sure you get the funeral you deserve,” he answered in equal gravity, and Clark could only laugh.

……………

Dinner was no less energetic than lunch had been, but infinitely better because it was his mom’s cooking. All four of them made sure to express their delight at appropriate times, and Martha positively beamed.

This time around, though, she allowed Steve and Bruce to help clear the table, but shooed the three guests out to the porch while she and Clark washed up. Elbows deep in sudsy water, Clark reveled in the familiar habit of scrubbing the dishes while his mom put things away, something they had always done together since he had been a boy.

And then she spoke.

“You seem happy,” she said. Her tone spoke of absent disinterest, but Clark knew better.

“I am,” he said easily, barely pausing at his task.

“Are you happier?” she asked.

“Impossibly,” he answered. A silence that was neither oppressive nor calm settled around them, and Clark waited for her to gather her thoughts.

“But how does it _work_?” was the question she finally settled on, and Clark laughed uproariously. He abandoned his dishes and grasped her around her shoulders, hugging her and getting soap all over her shirt. She joined him in his laughter until tears fell from their eyes, and then they just held onto each other.

“I don’t think you’re going to want the answer to that,” he said gently. She huffed, but it was his turn to talk now. “Having Steve and Tony where there was only Bruce before… It’s the realization of a dream I didn’t know I could have had. How could I have ever even _imagined_ that three of the greatest men on Earth could love me back and love each other all at the same time? But now that it _has_ happened, I can’t imagine how I could have ever thought it couldn’t have had.” She pulled back so that she could look in his eyes and brush a non-existent strand of hair off his forehead.

“Well then, I’m glad,” she told him, and then said nothing more than a smile. He kissed her forehead, hugged her again and then finished up his chore.

……………

They didn’t tell her that they spent part of the night—on Tony’s insistence—sexing each other up in the middle of the cornfield (“Come ooooon. How often do we get to fuck in a _cornfield_?” he wheedled.

“Does everything always have to be about sex?”

“Of course! Whyever not?”

“… Fine.”), but the way she grinned at them the following morning led them to believe she knew a little more than she let on (it may have had something to do with the bit of cornstalk still stuck in Steve’s hair when he came down).

The rest of their day was leisurely and lazy, spent mostly on the porch where Tony “improved” Martha’s TV set and radio and microwave… and washing machine and tractor. Bruce read a book on one of the rocking chairs, and Steve and Clark played with Buddy before Bruce eventually challenged Steve to a game of chess which happened to go on as only a battle between two master tacticians could (pretty damn spectacularly).

They spent several hours after that sitting at Jonathan's grave with Clark telling them stories upon stories of his father.

All the while, Martha watched over them like the proud mama she was.

At sunset, she saw them off at the end of the lawn. All four men wrapped her in hugs that were just a little bit too tight to be casual and each pressed a thankful kiss to her cheek.

“You come back for a visit anytime you want, okay?” she told them, and each one made a promise to do so. “Especially you, young man,” she added, poking Clark in the chest. “You can fly halfway across the globe in three minutes and can’t take ten seconds to come see your mother?” Clark looked properly chastised and kissed her again.

“I’m sorry. I’ll visit soon,” he promised, and she grinned as they climbed into the car. Bruce hung back last and, after a moment’s hesitation, wrapped her in another, longer hug.

“The world’s lucky that you raised a fine man in Superman,” he whispered into her ear. “And the three of us are lucky that you did so for Clark Kent.” Clark smiled discreetly while Steve and Tony argued over the music selection (“ _Driver chooses_ , Steve. It’s the _law_. You don’t mess with the law.”). He knew Steve could hear, too, but the supersoldier gave no indication that he did. Bruce pulled back and kissed her cheek again, and when he let her go, Martha’s eyes were watery. She patted his back before he went.

“Drive safe, boys,” she called out one last time and waved as they pulled out of the driveway.

And if Tony suddenly started to have more and more “business” trips to the Midwest, and if Batman was frequently spotted taking down criminals in Nebraska and Oklahoma and Kansas, and if Steve went on random overnight trips and came back with apple pie that tasted exactly like his mom’s, well, Clark wasn’t one to call them out on it.


End file.
